Twisted
by nhannah
Summary: Drunk and with nothing to live for, Haruno Sakura goes on a whim and steals her sensei's forbidden Resurrection Scroll. Her plan? Get back Uchiha Sasuke, fall in love, die happy. What she gets instead? Uchiha Itachi. WARNING: DARK HUMOR. ItaxSaku.


**Summary: **Drunk and with nothing to live for, Haruno Sakura goes on a whim and steals her sensei's forbidden Resurrection Scroll. Her plan? Get back Uchiha Sasuke, fall in love, die happy. What she gets instead? Uchiha Itachi. WARNING, DARK HUMOR. ItaxSaku.

**Author's Note:** So, yeah, seriously? I don't know what this is. I have four tests coming up next week and I ought to be busy as a fucking bee, yet, here I am. Writing a twisted little story that I came up with in, what, five seconds? Yeah. This is what you get when you've been in FORCED hiatus for the longest time ever and you seriously, seriously can't stand it any longer.

Read and review.

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**Twisted**

_.death_

Her heart was hammering against her chest, perspire sliding down her cheeks and neck, the strong taste of cheap alcohol now gross and heavy on her tongue. Her back was pinned to a wall and her breath hitched in agonized wait as the minutes of heavy silence that stood between her and the man currently holding her in this position sleekly oozed itself into what seemed like hours.

Watching her trapped there like a cornered deer, viridian eyes wide and pink lips agape with shocked recognition, the man who had gotten her into this state in the first place notched his head to one side; expression stony and incomprehensible as he allowed himself to finally break the stillness of her gray bedroom walls "You called?" he asked briskly.

The girl, Sakura, squeaked before steadying herself.

Despite reading about him plenty of times before, despite having his name imprinted in her head since childhood; despite even her teammate's harsh realities of him, never once had she heard his voice – a deep, emotionless tenor that practically sucked the life out of her; startling her to no end.

"You're... you're not the one I asked for," she said after a moment of slurred thought; her own voice coming out less nervous than she predicted it would. In fact, if anything, she sounded almost calm.

Studying her, the man notched his head even lower, allowing long wisps of ebony hair to tumble against his shoulders; reminding Sakura of how... amazing a contrast it was, his smooth locks and her own ugly blunt ones. "But here I am," he stated, calmly and serenely, like he had not understood what had just come out from her mouth.

"U-Uchiha...," she tried again, eyes now shutting; angry and confused; her brain trying desperately to fight the after-effects of heavy drinking and seek out the words to convey what she meant. "You're the wrong Uchiha!"

"Yes," was his careless answer, his dark eyes boring into her mercilessly. _"But here I am."_

The way he had said it, so blatantly like that, caused a burst of emotion to shoot up inside of her like a firework. Blood gushed through her veins. She wanted to explode from the amount of suppressed frustration that bubbled up inside of her.

"SHUT UP!" she yelled, fingers crumpling over into tight fists. "_SHUT UP!_ I asked for Uchiha Sasuke! I _want_ Uchiha Sasuke! GIVE ME UCHIHA SASUKE!"

But the man in question did not come; and the man standing before her could not comply to her wishes.

So, with little to no effort on his behalf, he continued just standing there – looking at her. Looking at her and standing there. Like a statue. Or some mystical nightmare suddenly turned inexplicable reality. An enigma and a crisis, he was both dangerous yet... unable to do anything to her at the present time.

They stood there both facing each other; both parties at a loss for words.

"You summoned me," he said at last, unfazed by her emotional outburst. _"And here I am."

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_

It was on a whim that she had done it – snuck into the store marked, 'secret scrolls' with all the Jounin capability she possessed and fingered through the forbidden section of said unit until she found what she was looking for.

Vision blurry and mind a haze, Haruno Sakura knew that she was definitely a tad more tipsy than the situation required.

What she was doing was illegal for goodness sake, how could she be drunk while going through with it?

Realizing barely that she would seriously come to regret this in the morning, the pink-haired apprentice to Tsunade eagerly ripped open the seals guarding her bounty and flat-rolled the 2-foot long scroll open against the empty surface of a table; blood and excitement catalyzing her drunken state and drawing her closer to her forbidden affair.

_Resurrection Jutsu_, the scroll read in perfect Kanji. **DO NOT USE**, was its bold and capitalized disclaimer underneath.

Sakura smirked, pushing back a snigger and replacing it instead with a hiccup.

'I'm in deep enough as it is, what's a couple more lines going to hurt?' was her clearly intoxicated mentality as she proceeded to skim through the procedure of the infamous Resurrection Jutsu.

'Pieces of model, corpse of model... I can do this!' she told herself jovially before strapping the scroll back up and sliding it back to its previous position beneath all the rest of the dangerous scrolls her sensei had locked away. 'And if I get this right, everything will be as good as new!'

Rekindled with happy hope, the Jounin expressed her glee through a wavering sway of the hips – her own strange version of what should be a dance – before sterning herself into her typical medic-nin expression, crouching down low, and making a beeline for the exit.

The next morning, however, the memory of this episode had lost itself to the dullness of everyday life. Work, study and useless missions made up her daily schedule for the longest time, and, for a while there, she had almost forgotten of her initial naughty plan and allowed the thing to drop completely.

It was only a month and a half later that the recollection of her scandalous act had come to mind.

She was drunk then as she was when she had done the bad deed, so, at the time, setbacks were no issue.

Besides, Haruno Sakura was already 25, fully capable and had nothing to live for. Her parents were dead, her best friend was dead and the love of her life was dead. She wasn't going anywhere much as far as her career as a medic-nin was concerned and, basically, she was walking through her days like a zombie pulled into a tasteless routine.

Haruno Sakura wanted to feel life again. She wanted to feel joy. Emotion.

But, most of all, she yearned to feel love.

And that's when it clicked.

_Uchiha Sasuke._

She would get him back, and that would solve all her heart ache.

So, with her resolution now set, she briefed through what she had read months ago and smiled widely to herself.

"Bartender!" she called, getting up suddenly from her seat behind her four emptied cups of sake. "Write me a check. I'm going back tonight."

And that was that.

Before she knew it, her feet had taken her to places she'd never thought of venturing into; her fingernails were suddenly crammed with dirt, sweat dribbled down her back and she had retrieved him – the dead Uchiha casket.

"Welcome home, Sasuke," she drawled almost sadistically as her hands formed the appropriate seals and she cried the final words, "HENGE!" summoning his return.

Safe to say, though, what she got was not what she bargained for.

Instead of Uchiha Sasuke, the man she loved, standing before her with welcome arms and embracing her in a loving hug, she had gotten his older brother – Uchiha Itachi. A stranger. A criminal. The sole murderer of his clan.

And somewhere, somehow, she soon came to realize that even with years of experience of perfect chakra-control backing her up, the Resurrection Jutsu she performed was nowhere near perfectly executed. For one, there included a major flaw she had never once dreamed of performing –

_-She was the only one who could see him.

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_

**Author's Note:** You know, if I was able to, I'd have categorized this story under several genres – Dark, Romance and Humour. Simply because.

Review. I kind of like where this is going (wherever that is).


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